


4000 lives

by Wians



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, Dark, Dead People, Gen, Graphic Description of Corpses, Rescue Mission, Starvation, Tarsus IV, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-06-02 20:50:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19449295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wians/pseuds/Wians
Summary: USS Enterprise arrives to a disaster on Tarsus IV. First Officer Chris Pike is in the lead of the away team.





	4000 lives

Captain April walked out of his ready room with a very concerned expression. “Commander Pike, set course for Tarsus IV with maximum warp, we’ve had a distress call.”

“Aye sir,” Pike turned on his chair, and tapped the coordinates into the ship’s computer, waiting for it to plot a course, his hand ready on the warp drive control lever. All he knew of Tarsus IV was that it was an agricultural research and growth facility as well as a colony.

April sat down in his chair, and looked at Pike, “ETA?”

“Forty-six hours, twenty minutes, sir.”

April nodded, “Robbins, have you managed to establish contact?”

“No sir, the only thing I can pick up is the encrypted SOS,” Una said from her station.

“Keep trying, let’s use the time to prepare what we can.” He opened a ship-wide channel. 

“Attention, Enterprise crew, this is Captain April. We’ve picked up a distress signal from the agricultural colony on Tarsus IV, and this has now become a rescue mission that we’re flying into blind, as we’ve not been able to establish contact. We will arrive in forty-six hours, prepare for anything. April out.” 

****

Forty-six hours and twenty minutes later, they were in orbit above Tarsus IV. The planet was deadly quiet, not a ship in sight, not a transmission, or as much as an electric signal emitted from it. They might as well be in orbit around a barren moon. Pike felt his skin prickle.

“Nothing?” April asked.

“No, sir.”

“Scan the planet, give me life readings, anything relevant. On screen.”

Sapient lives: 4002 the number appeared on the screen as the computer spoke, and as they all looked, the number dropped to 4001.

“Sir, there is supposed to be about 8000 people within the colony” Lieutenant Steward said from her station to the right of April’s chair, and before April could respond, Steward pulled up the photos taken from the scan to the screen. The town making up the main part of the colony was in ruins, the field around brown and bare, the middle of the town square in shambles, and covered by unidentifiable, black objects.

“What is that” April asked.

“The computer says its, burned organic material, sir.” Steward said quietly. 

The bridge was silent for a moment, the words burned organic material repeating in Pike’ mind, something cold turning in his stomach, while the number of living beings dropped down to 4000 on the screen. 

April began giving orders in rapid succession: “Yellow alert! Lieutenant Robbins send an SOS signal to Starfleet, Vulcan, everyone and everything nearby. Steward, scan the planet’s atmosphere and find out about landing conditions, Lieutenant Jig, alert medical. Commander Pike, the atmosphere is breathable, so don a combat uniform, assembly an away team and take a shuttle down there, find out what the hell happened!”

“Yes sir!” Pike was out of his chair and into the lift in moments, taking his comm and ordering a select group of officers to meet him in shuttle bay 2 within 10 minutes.

What in hell was going on down on that planet? No enemies in sight, no general broadcast of an SOS, no anything. It felt like the entire planet was just, dead. Even as Pike called the 8 people he wanted on his team to the shuttle, he saw the number of life signs drop an additional two.

But Captain April had called for assistance, and Pike intended to prevent any more deaths if he possibly could.

****

Half an hour later, the shuttle touched down on the strangely greyish ground outside of the main town, still without any responses from the colony, despite Enterprise’s continued attempts., or attacks of any kind either. They had, however caught the attention of 2 Vulcan ships that were now on the way to assist and would arrive within a few hours. Starfleet HQ was hopelessly far away, but they had sent several ships too.

There was not as much as a leaf or blade of grass within eye’s reach, and under Pike’ feet was a sluggish, grey mass that he could not identify. The air smelled stark, slightly moldy and with an unmistakable trace of burned flesh hanging everywhere. He spotted no birds in the sky, not even insects.

“What is that smell?” Lieutenant-Commander Hakimi asked, coming up beside him.

“I am afraid it’s burned flesh,” Pike said, a heavy lump in the pit of his stomach, and the taste of bile in his throat. He tried to breathe normally around the smell. 

“Keep close, set phasers to stun and let’s move towards the town, careful,” he ordered. He began walking, and touched the comm on the shoulder of his EV suit, hoping that whatever had caused the electric blackout was not interfering with their equipment too. “Pike to Enterprise: we’ve touched down, not a living being in sight, we’re making our way towards the town.”

“Acknowledged,” came Una’s reply through his comm.

“Hakimi, scan this sludge we’re walking through, I want to know what it is,” Pike ordered, the rancid smell worsening for every step he took.

“It appears to be the leftover of decay of fauna, sir,” Hakimi said after a moment. “I’m sending up my readings to the Enterprise for analysis.”

“Lieutenant Croyle, did you pick up the signal again?”

“I’m afraid it’s still off, sir.” They’d lost the SOS signal 12 hours previously and had not been able to reconnect. “Dead, as everything else requiring power to run seems to be.”

“All right, carry on, continue scanning for life signs.” It was like they were walking through mud, the sludge feeling damp and slightly slippery under their boots. The sunlight did nothing to dispense the feeling of desolation, shining through a light cover of clouds, with hardly any warmth in it. Pike lead the little group further along the road, until they reached the remains of the Tarsus IV Agricultural Research facility. The large greenhouse that made up about half the building was filled to the brim with the grey sludge. Pike hesitated for a moment, but he did not want to split up the away team, so they all walked through the abandoned reception, and into the lab. Abandoned coffee cups still sat at the desks, along with PADDS, and stray pieces of paper.

Croyle and Hakimi and a few others went to the consoles trying to extract information, while Pike took a round to ensure that the facility was really abandoned.

“Sir,” Croyle called after a few moments, “the computers have been wiped clean, and it doesn’t seem like I can get anything from them.”

Pike walked back into the main lab, “I think we can safely rule out Klingons. All right, if there’s nothing to be learned from the lab, we proceed with caution to the city square.” He knew that the general lack of other living beings aside from them were getting to everyone. The small hairs on Pike’ neck were standing up.

The strong smell of burned flesh intensified as they neared the city, there was nowhere to take cover in the barren landscape, leaving them completely exposed, but they met no one as they approached. The first few houses of the town lay empty, windows smashed, doors off, any form of vegetation turned to mush.

It was then they found the first body. Or rather, the remains of a body: the person had been dead for days, was now barely recognizable as a human male; skin blue and black and bloated, ready to burst like a balloon, and covered in flies. The smell hit Pike in the face like a speeding train, and he had to take a moment to control his bowls, his stomach turning. The body seemed completely untouched by the fungi, however, no grey sludge at all.

Hakimi came up beside him, pale and with grey lips pressed tightly together as she found her scanner, then stopped mid-movement. “Look, a phaser wound.” She pointed at the man’s bloated forehead where a large, gaping and scorched wound was visible.

Pike’ mouth was dry. “Yeah, this does not look like a fungus.”

Hakimi nodded. “No, it seems we can hypothesize that it only affects plant life, which is bad enough, but that alone does not explain all the bodies on the main square, nor the wound in this man’s forehead, this looks like an execution. And from the state of the body, it seems he was killed about three days ago.”

Pike had to agree. “Along with the wiped computers in the lab, and the complete lack of any communication from the governor and his staff…”

Suddenly, they heard a noise from inside one of the houses on the road, like something falling to the ground. Everyone turned to face it, phasers ready. 

“Patel, Hakimi, with me, the rest of you stay here,” Pike ordered, then he walked slowly up to the house, through more grey slug, the others behind him.

He made sure not to stand directly in front of the door. “This is Commander Christopher Pike from the USS Enterprise, we are here to help.”

More shuffling noises came from the inside, after a moment Pike shouldered the door open to a dim hallway in a one-story house. No one shot at him, so he moved a few steps in, through a doorway and into a kitchen. It looked like a bomb had exploded in there; everything was off the shelves and out on the floor, glasses and plates smashed to pieces, furniture overturned.

“STAY AWAY!” a frightened and squeaky voice yelled. A very young voice.

Pike lowered his phaser, signaled for Hakimi and Patel to stay back as he went further into the kitchen. At the far end of the room was a back door, ajar, leading out to a lawn turned into grey mush. The pale daylight backlit a figure of someone leaned against the door, moving towards it.

A child, no more than ten years old supported himself on the wall, halfway on the ground, and cast a horrified, feverish look back at Pike as he approached slowly. 

“It’s okay kid, I’m not going to hurt you, I am here to help.” He hooked his phaser back into his belt and approached, hands out in a placating gesture.

The boy’s face was red with fever, and he was so thin that even through the dimness of the kitchen, Pike could see his ribs poking out from the holes in his worn clothes. His arms and legs were like twigs, shaking slightly, and his skin was marred with dirt, bruises, and a nasty laceration along his ribs. Pike’ breath got stuck in his throat. For how long had he been starving? How long had they all suffered here with no help from the Federation, and from Starfleet? 

He continued his slow approach. “I’m Chris,” he said, forcing his voice to be calm and soothing. “What is your name?”

“Th- Thomas,” the child said, looking into Pike’ eyes. “Are you really Starfleet?”

“See the insignia?” Pike pointed to the emblem on his chest, and Thomas’ brow furrowed as he focused on it. “We need to get you to a doctor, our ship is waiting in orbit, I will call for them to beam you out.”

“No, can’t! They- they took Jim, Jim and Kevin and the others, I gotta help them!” the boy screeched. It hurt seeing Thomas trying to stand on legs that could barely carry him, desperate to save his friends even though he was running a fever and clearly hadn’t eaten for days. Still he stumbled to stand, but at the first attempted step, his legs gave out and Pike caught him before he could injure himself further.

He noticed that Hakimi and Petal had subtly entered, not making a noise, and with equally horrified expression on their faces.

Having hardly a fight left in him Thomas sagged against Pike.

“Who took them, Thomas?” Pike asked gently. “And where?”

“K- Kodos and his men, they use the town hall, we have to help them… made it this far… I have to-“

“I am here to help, I will find your friends, I promise you.” Pike said, even though he feared he could not live up to that promise, but he had to say something, anything to soothe the panicked look in Thomas’ eyes. “I will go get them, but first I will get you to a doctor.”

Thomas nodded, having either accepted that Pike was there to help, or just given up. Pike turned on his comm. “Pike to Enterprise.”

“Enterprise here. Commander what’s going on?” Captain April’s voice was clear through the connection, steady and calm. The Enterprise was still with them, and that made Pike feel a little less alone down here.

“Captain, we’ve found a survivor who needs medical attention, he’s malnourished and very weak. This is….” He hardly had words to describe it. “We’re going to need a lot of medical support,” he hoped, he really hoped. He didn’t want to entertain the alternative, considering readings still showed 4000 lives in the colony. 4000 lives, and Pike did not intend to lose one single one of them. “I am still not certain what is going on here, but it appears that there are prisoners involved. I will search for them, but we need assistance!”

April hesitated for a moment. “Be careful and keep me posted. The Vulcan support ships have arrived, I will send them down at once. Ready for transport.”

Pike smiled to Thomas. “Help is on the way. I’m going to sit you down, and Enterprise will transport you to our sickbay.” He was not sure Thomas could hear him, but he gently sat him down supported by the wall, and stepped back. “One to transport, sir.”

When Thomas had been beamed out, Pike, Hakimi and Petal returned to the others. The finding of one survivor gave Pike a glimpse of hope, but the bad state the child had been in left him with a hollow feeling. 

There were originally five streets leading to the center square, but four had been blocked by large stones, the fifth had been as well at a time, but they’d since been moved to the side.

The stench from the burned bodies was overwhelming, and the piles on the square were horrifyingly large: hundreds upon hundreds of them, with blackened faces and scorched bones, some with left-over strings of fabric still visible on their bodies. Every hair on Pike’ body stood on edge, there was barely enough air in his lungs. Something red caught Pike’ attention: a shoe, only half burned away, a very little shoe.

“Oh God,” Croyle whispered, voice shaking. He sounded as sick as Pike felt. “God, no.”

Pike shared the sentiment. His pulse was hammering in his ears, every intake of breath carried the smell of burned flesh and scorched clothes, creating a heavy lump in his throat and a burning anger at the carelessness these lives had been shown. 

There were still 4000 people here waiting to be rescued, Jim, Kevin and ‘the others’, and Pike was in charge of this mission. He took a deep breath and turned to eye Croyle. The Lieutenant looked sick, but not about to freak out, and the rest of his team looked just about the same, still here with him. 

“Scan for life signs,” Pike said quietly, “anywhere.”

Croyle tore his eyes away from the bodies, to look at Pike for a moment, eyes wide. Then he found his scanner. A moment later, he nodded towards the town hall. “Several life signs, all from in there.”

Pike carefully slid around one of the boulders into the square proper. “Croyle, keep scanning for life signs. Everyone, fall in. Be careful not to step on anyone.” They continued carefully, while small flakes of ash slowly fell from the piles, and were gusted around by the gentle wind, covering the ground like snow.

Determined, Pike led his away team towards the town hall, keeping an eye on Croyle’s PADD where he monitored the life readings. All their phasers still at stun, they made their way towards the building.

The door was locked, but of wood, and it only took Hakimi a couple of moments to slice through the lock, and Pike soundlessly slid through the door once they’d put it ajar. The entry hall was dim and empty, but not overturned like they’d seen in the houses. Several large crates were stacked neatly along the far wall, and Pike went towards them, followed by the others.

They turned out to contain food. Not a lot, and he would not know how to feed several thousand people over a long period with this, but there was still food here.

“What the…” Hakimi began, before lowering her voice when it all but echoed through the room, her eyes shining with anger, she looked about ready to rip apart those responsible for this nightmare.

The sound of running feet startled them, and Hakimi pulled Pike behind the crate as a shot brushed past his head, leaving a searing burn mark and the smell of scorched hair. Pike stumbled and leaned against the crate, adrenaline pumping through him. 

“We are Starfleet, we aren’t here to-” he began, but was only met with more shots. The rest of his away team came through the door, overwhelming the two attackers. 

His phaser still raised, Pike emerged from behind the crates and walked over to them, checking his surroundings, no one seemed injured, and he turned his attention to his attackers who lay stunned on the floor.

They were both human men, wearing identical Tarsus IV Town Security Unit uniforms.

Croyle ran over to him. “Sir, are you both OK?” He looked down at the two men, “Security.. what the hell?”

Pike shook his head, “I don’t know. But yes, we’re unharmed, thank you for the help,” he nodded to Croyle. “Let’s lock them up somewhere, and take their phasers. All this shooting was properly heard throughout the building, we must hurry.” 

He was terrified that whomever had taken Jim and the others would execute his hostages now that Starfleet had arrived. “We’ll check the basement, and then regroup with the others.”

Once the two security guards had been tied up, Pike walked down the stairwell ahead of his landing party as soundlessly as he could, phaser at the ready. They came to a locked door, a little harder to open than the first, but still manageable.

The door opened to a concrete hallway, lit by ceiling light bulbs, cold and quiet, continuing for a few meters before taking a sharp left turn. They waited, but no one came running towards them, no shots were fired down the hallway.

Croyle came up to him, showing him the life signs, two heat signatures outside a door, and 8 others, fainter, inside. Slowly, and almost at ground level Pike peeked around the corner and spotted two more human men in security unit uniforms, phaser rifles in their hands, guarding a bolted door.

Pike withdrew again, thinking, when one of the men picked up his beeping communicator, and had a low conversation with someone in the other end.

“Yes sir,” the man said, and turned to the other, “Starfleet has found us, Kodos has ordered we execute the brats in there.”

Pike felt a surge of anger and adrenaline, but he stayed where he was while he heard one of them fiddle with the lock. He send a look to Hakimi, Croyle and Patel, who all raised their phasers and followed him out as Pike rounded the corner and pointed his phaser at the two men. “Drop your weapons. This is your only warning.”

The two men spun around, shocked, and raised their own weapons. Pike fired, as did Patel, Croyle and Hakimi, and the two guards dropped to the ground, stunned.

Worried that someone inside might hear them and harm the children, Pike threw caution out the window and aimed his phaser at the lock, while Croyle and Hakimi aimed at the hinges, making short work of it. As Pike stepped into the room with Hakimi right behind him, the sight froze him to the spot for a moment.

Five children lay on the floor, in worn clothes, with hollow cheeks, visible ribs and legs as thin as twigs. They were all bruised, dirty and so motionless that Pike feared they were already dead. His lungs felt like they could not take in enough air.

The oldest of the kids lay with his back to the door, shirtless, and with ribs painfully visible under his sickly pale skin, knobby knees curled up towards his stomach, arms around his head as if bracing himself. He was marred with gaping and still bleeding wounds from his neck to hips, his arms and as far as Pike could see, a few on his chest.

Pike hooked his phaser into his belt and came to kneel beside the boy, feeling for a pulse, only to have him jerk violently to the side, and open his dry mouth in an attempt to scream. His eyes were glossy with fever, the bony hand coming up to Pike’ arm in an attempt to ward him off shaky.

“It’s OK, son, we’re here to help, you are safe.” The words tasted so inadequate in his mouth. These children had been through hell, their survival far from certain, and their world would not be safe for years, even if they did survive. He gently put his hand on the boy’s arm.

“Leave us alone!” the teen cried out in a horribly weak voice. He rolled around, and Pike put a hand on his back to prevent him from putting his open wounds on the dirty ground. 

“Thomas sent me,” Pike tried, the boy was using too much of his non-existent strength. He tried to catch the feverish, panicked gaze. “My name is Pike, I’m from Starfleet. Are you Jim?”

“Yes! Don’t hurt them, hurt me instead!”

“No one is going to hurt you anymore, Jim. Thomas is safe, and you are too,” Pike soothed, very gently rubbing a circle on his back and finally catching the boy’s gaze, looking into a pair of blue eyes, wide with terror and clouded over with fever, his forehead sweaty, cheeks hollow and marred with bruises. “It will be OK, I am here.” 

“Activate your pattern enhancers so that Enterprise can locate them for safe transport,” Pike ordered his team. Then his voice faltered as he looked ahead and saw Croyle carefully turn a very little boy so that he could put two fingers on the child’s neck to feel for a pulse. 

Croyle saw Pike’ look and nodded. “He is alive.”

Pike drew a shaky breath of relief. The teen seemed to calm somewhat under Pike’ supporting hand on his back, and he turned his attention to the comm, “Pike to Enterprise.” 

“Enterprise here,” Captain April said.

“Captain. We have found 8 children in urgent need of medical care, request for transport.”

“Stand by,” April said, and Pike heard him communicate with several other people before he got back to him, “we have the signals. I have send Lieutenant Robbins down with another away team, join with her, look for survivors.”

“Yes sir,” Pike said. 

Then he again caught Jim’s gaze. “Jim listen: I will get you to an infirmary now, along with Kevin, Thomas and everyone else. No one else is going to hurt you.”

Jim continued to breathe raggedly, and Pike was not sure he could hear him. He slowly let go of him and stepped back, waiting for the beam-out.

****

Pike met up with Una in the lead of a larger away team just outside the town hall. She was in already dusty combat gear, holding a phaser rifle, and with a scowl on her face that could scare the scales off a Gorn. “Pike, what the hell is this?”

“I’m not sure yet, we found nothing in the town hall, aside from captive children. You found any survivors?”

“T’kar, one of the Vulcan captains, has” she said, a muscle working in her jaw. “It wasn’t pretty. We found more dead.”

“Do we know where Kodos is?”

“We don’t, but I suggest we try knocking at his front door.”

But as they approached Kodos’ residence, they saw smoke rising from it, along with flames licking out from the southern, downstairs window. They managed to extinguish it, but not before it had done considerable damage, appearing to originate from the living room. The place was burned to a cinder; the walls black and carpets turned to ash. It was easy to see where the fire had started; the sofa in the middle had taken the most damage; the upholstery was burnt and melted; the wooden frame almost gone. On the remains lay a corpse burned to an unrecognizable crisp, the smell was nearly overpowering. Next to it was a halfway melted bottle of petrol. “You think that’s Kodos?”

“Probably. DNA scan cannot confirm for sure, some chemical is messing with it,” Una said, “Coward,” she spat. 

“Let’s search his house, I want to know why,” Pike said, knowing that an explanation would not really make a difference. This was a mindless slaughter of a colony that Kodos had been trusted with, and nothing could explain or excuse it.

Kodos’ office was in the other end of the house, and untouched by the fire: a spacious room, covered in expensive carpets and paintings and knickknacks, with a large, wooden desk, and a drinks cabinet. Luxurious, grand, and so out of place in the middle of all this that Pike felt whiplashed.

“Let’s see if we can get anything from the computer, Hakimi. The rest of us, let’s search the adjacent rooms.”

Ten minutes later, Pike was about to break into an old-fashioned filing cabinet in the corner of the office, when Hakimi called him over, behind her stood Lieutenant Croyle with a disgusted face. “Sir, you’ve got to see this!”

Pike moved over to stand behind her. She’d opened an encrypted file. “First, I found books by Francis Galton, Thomas Hunt Morgan, Karl Pearson and Walter Weldon, you know, early 20th century eugenists.” She pointed at several books in the file.

“Eugenics?” Pike made a disgusted face. “So the bastard chose who was to be killed right away, and who was worth saving.” The words tasted like bile on his tongue.

“Yes it seems so,” she opened a file called ‘application on trial population’ ”this is dated to six months ago.”

“So, before the fungi spread,” Pike said. “Do you think it was fabricated?” He looked at Croyle and Hakimi, dread settling in his stomach. “Let’s download everything and send it up to Enterprise,” Pike said, as Una entered the room.

“Anything?”

“Yes,” Pike said darkly. “We found evidence that Kodos used this place for eugenic experimenting. ” 

“What, seriously?” The shock and disgust on Una’s face mirrored Pike’ own feelings. “Damn, if only I could get a chance to kill that putrid cunt myself!”

Pike felt his own blood boil, too. Yes. We have sent this up to the Enterprise, do we know how T’kar is doing?”

“He just called, they found survivors, mostly uninjured but malnourished.”

****

Almost 20 hours of searching for survivors, transporting the injured to safety, firefights with Kodos’ men, and more blood, sweat and dirt than Pike had encountered in his life so far later, he finally boarded a shuttle back to the Enterprise, Captain April having ordered a shift change in the face of the arrival of more ships, including the USS Cooper.

Pike sat down heavily on the little shuttle seat, every muscle in his body feeling like lead, he hunched over, elbows on his knees, looking at his hands. He had a headache, and still a horrible, heavy feeling in his guts. Una sat down beside him, groaning slightly as she leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. No one spoke during the ride, and Pike looked out of the window as they ascended; ships arriving at and departing the area around the colony all the time. 

The sight of the Enterprise in orbit was like the sight of his home, he already felt a little less tired and miserable. Hanger 2 where they landed was a beehive of landing and departing shuttles, equipment everywhere, medical personnel, survivors in various state of medical emergencies, body bags being respectfully placed into crates, and personnel running back and forth. The air was heavy still, and the scorched smell from the colony lingered everywhere. The noise of running feet, shuttle engines, supplies being handled, and voices was considerable.

Captain April waited for them in his ready room, along with CMO Sarah April, Captain Cornwell of the USS Cooper, and Captain T’Kar, who was the head of the Vulcan support ships on video transmissions.

“Number One, Lieutenant, there you are,” April gestured for them to join him around his desk. “Admiral Marcus will call soon, demanding an update, do we have something for him?”

“We do, sir,” Pike said, and he and Una filled him in on what they knew. They were done just as April’s comm beeped, showing an incoming transmission from Starfleet HQ, Admiral A. Marcus on the line.

“Admiral Marcus,” April greeted.

“Captain. Talk to me, what the hell is going on, on Tarsus IV?”

What’s going on is a massive fucking cockup from the Federation, what happened was a complete human disaster, that Starfleet should have bloody prevented. Pike did not voice these furious thoughts, he merely stood to the side of Captain April, back ramrod straight, fisted hands behind his back, and face as expressionless as he could muster while the Captain explained.

“How many dead?”

“We have registered 3424 dead, but the number continues to rise.” Captain Cornwell said.

3424 lives ended, the number hit Pike worse than he had expected. He had seen the initial reading, and he had just spent a day in the middle of it all, but he had still hoped they had been wrong, that it seemed bigger than it was. But no. Thousands were dead in a matter of a few weeks. Knowing the exact number made it worse.

As soon as Admiral Marcus had ended the transmission, with an order for the Enterprise to return as soon as possible, Captain April dismissed Pike and Una and their away teams to at least 8 hours of rest before the next shift. Pike did not want to, he felt he was letting the victims down by taking a hot shower and going to bed like it was just another day. But he knew he had to. He had been on his feet for almost 20 hours nonstop. His uniform was sweaty and muddy, his body buzzed with tiredness, but his mind was wide awake.

****

Pike scrubbed himself pink under almost boiling hot water, but the smell of burned flesh and blood still clung to him, on his skin, in his nose, everywhere. There was bile in the back of his throat, and a horrible, hollow feeling in his stomach.

His quarters were quiet, clean, normal. It seemed so wrong. Fortunately, his doorbell rang, and Una and Phil Boyce stood on the other side, with a bottle of blue alcohol in his hands. Pike let them in without a word, and send Phil a concerned look. The doctor looked dead on his feet; brown hair sweaty and mussed, face pale and with large, purple bags under his eyes, mouth in a tight line as if he was holding back words, or maybe even the urge to scream.

They all sat down in silence, Phil poured them all half a glass of a blue liquid, pushed one to Una and Pike each.

They all sat on to their chairs as if they were in danger of dropping to the floor, grey faces, hunched shoulders. Pike knocked back his shot of bourbon no questions asked. The bitter, strong liquid burned down his throat into his stomach, but did not manage to warm him. 

None of them spoke for a while: Una put her head on her folded arms on the table, face ashen, looking like death. Phil looked into his glass like he wanted to drown himself in it. Pike just sat staring off into space, every muscle aching, but the faces of the children, Jim, Kevin, Thomas still on repeat in his mind.

“The little boy, Kevin. I am not sure he will survive,” Phil said with a hollow voice, “I tried... but he is so underweight, has an infection too… I should be there,” He rubbed his face tiredly.

“The others are doing what they can,” Una pointed out. “We all did what we could, we need rest.”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure it was enough,” Pike said tonelessly. 

When he had been five, he had been safe and protected in his parents’ home, already wanting to see the stars. When he had been a young teen, his biggest worries had been school work, his crush on one of his classmates, not surviving an insane dictator. It was so unfair that those kids back there did not have that, so unfair that they had to see and experience too much at such an early age. 

Hurt me instead Jim had told him, grabbing his arm with his bony fingers. Why did no one prevent this? The Fedreation? Starfleet? These children had their childhoods taken away from them, and the unfairness of it all burned through his heart. Made his eyes sting, and anger turn his stomach. If only they had arrived sooner...

“What about Jim, do you know?” he asked.

Phil looked up at him, “Jim?”

“The blond kid, with the wounds down his back. The oldest of the kids from the town hall basement.”

“Oh, yes. He will live. His wounds were infected and he was dangerously malnourished and dehydrated, several broken bones, same story as most of them.” Phil sighed. “We also found some injuries from earlier.”

“Do we know who he is?”

“He told us that his names is Jim, but nothing more. He had been taking care of the other kids, they’d been scavenging, survived the initial bloodbath on the square. That’s why they punished him,’” Phil said.

“Sick bastards,” Pike said angrily. “Sick, sick bastards,” he lacked the words to express his anger and disgust. “How can we have failed them so badly?” 

Both of the others stayed silent. They all drank some more Romulan ale. When Pike was beginning to feel light-headed, he determinedly pushed his glass away. “Shift tomorrow, we should sleep.”

Una nodded, looking groggy, but when she stood, it was not visible that she’d been drinking.  
“Yeah, I will try. Night.”

Phil left shortly after, only grunting an inaudible “night” before being out the door. Pike crawled into bed, and was out like a light. 

****

Pike woke after five and a half hours of sleep. It was around eight o’clock in the morning, and he was surprised he’d been able to sleep at all. He felt wide awake, so after yet another shower, he forced himself to eat, having been able to stomach nothing the day before, and reported to the bridge.

“I said eight hours, Pike,” April growled at him as the lift doors opened. The Captain sat hunched in his chair. Permanently scowling, with his large, slightly crocked nose and bushy eyebrows he reminded Pike of a ticked off bird of prey. Pike did not fault his Captain for being in a foul mood, but he felt his shoulders sag a bit, it seemed the situation had not bettered. 

Pike stopped in his tracks in the doorway. “I could not sleep any longer, sir.” He wondered if the Captain had slept at all, but pointing that out was out of place in front of the rest of the crew. He noticed that it was mostly beta shift staff on duty, which felt odd considering the hour.

“Have you eaten?” April demanded.

“Yes, sir.”

“All right, come in, we’re almost ready for departure,” he finally grumbled.

Pike walked up to stand beside the chair, hands behind his back, as his usual station was covered by Lieutenant Lindberg of the beta shift crew, and looked out over Tarsus IV before them. 

“Do we know more, sir?”

“We have about 4000 dead, and as many survivors,” April said heavily. “But we don’t know if they’ll all survive.” Up close, April looked so tired that Pike was sure he had not, in fact, slept. He warily watched him out of the corner of his eye, as April stifled a yawn. “The USS Cooper will oversee things here. We have prisoners, and patients in need of more urgent care…”

“And Kodos, sir? Is he-”

“Still presumed dead. They can’t say for sure.” The comm on the chair display made a noise, and April had a short conversation with the deck officer of hangar 3. Then he stood up. “The last of the shuttles is on board. Commander Pike, you have the conn, set course for Earth. Use the time to write your report. I need sleep.”

“Yes sir, good night,” Pike said. April only grunted in reply, and disappeared down with the lift, walking like he was in risk of dropping dead. Pike wished he’d woken up a bit sooner to relieve him. 

He sat down in the chair and held back a heavy sigh. He remembered back when he was a 19-year old second year cadet, having just piloted his first shuttle into the atmosphere, looking with almost teary-eyed wonder at the blue planet below, breathless with joy, the sense of wonder and adventure almost making him vibrate out of his skin in excited glee. 

Never had he imagined spending 20-odd hours wading through such a meaningless waste of human life. 

“Helm, set course for Earth, maximum warp,” Pike ordered.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks [Killermanatee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killermanatee/pseuds/Killermanatee) for betaing!


End file.
